Inevitably Present
by traversing
Summary: Rose, being the clever girl she is, found a way back to the Doctor in Doomsday. This is that story, and that of their journey through time and space.
1. Prologue

**_Dis__claimer:__ if I owned Doctor Who then the last few series would not have gone the way they did (though they were enjoyable nonetheless). _**

* * *

_"Hold on!"_

Fingers that had been wound firmly around a handle were now scrambling for traction, a hold, anything. But alas, the pull was far too strong, and from the lever they slipped. And with that, his sanity slipped as he watched her fall to the abyss of white, only for a figure that looked all too similar to catch her before disappearing again.

* * *

Rose was screaming pleas to return, "Take me back!" as she pounded against the wall. Nearly causing whiplash, she turned suddenly to her alternate father, the one who brought her there.

She snatched the dimension cannon off his neck, glaring at him as he tried to tell her it wouldn't work. Then Rose ran to stand by the wall a few meters away, clutching the hopper in her hand.

Looking up at the man who'd caught her, she whispered, "Thanks."

And with that, she disappeared, as her mother broke down in tears once again.

* * *

The Doctor was devastated, so much that he nearly let go in pursuit of her. The force the Void emitted lessened, but his position, staring at the wall, face downcast, didn't falter.

Her name fell from her lips as the pull became almost non-existent.

_She was gone._

"Doctor! I'm 'ere!"

The voice that he'd come to know, to love, rang out across the room. His head snapped towards it, and there, fingers and arms wrapping through the clamp, smile growing on the tear-stained face, there she was.

Rose. Rose. "Rose!" He called as the Void closed in on itself, and when it did, she collapsed into a heap on the ground. The Doctor nearly followed suit, overwhelmed.

_She came back. Just as she's always done._

But he ran to her, no matter his exhaustion, and knelt down next to her, cupping the back of her head.

Rose laughed, a dry, tired laugh. "Miss me?"

He tried searching her eyes, but all he found mirrored his own.

"Yeah." He grinned oh, so wide. Elation filled both of their faces, pure giddiness. "Oh, Rose."

"Can ya help me up? Dead tired, I am."

He didn't pick her up, carrying her like a bride. No, he grasped underneath her arm, then on her waist, pulling her up with him. As soon as she was on her feet, both parties flew into a hug, arms wrapping around the other accordingly. His arms went under hers as he lifted her up, spinning the both of them around, for what could have been hours.

It didn't matter. Right now, they were both alive, in each others' arms, just as they should be. Rose and the Doctor, soon to be in the TARDIS, just as it should be.

* * *

Rose asked to go to the estate, to get a few things before it was all taken away. Her mother was assumed dead, and she had no reason to come back now, just as Jackie had told her would happen.

Next to her stood the Doctor, she herself was sober, sullen as she looked around the place at one time she called home.

She couldn't take anything, no it was too soon. It might always be too soon.

Rubbing her irritated eyes, she sighed, before plastering a small smile, one that wasn't entirely genuine, and taking the Doctor's hand.

"Chips, yeah?"

* * *

If he hadn't been there to see earlier that day, the Doctor would've never thought that anything had happened. Well, that and the fact that her heavily applied mascara and eyeliner was completely smeared.

Her disheveled appearance gained a few stares from those they passed, including the dinner lady at the chips shop who asked of Rose's well being. Rose piped that she was fine, in that false-cheery voice that fooled. It was when they were sitting in the booth that the Doctor brought it up.

"I'm fine, Doctor. Just–," she popped a chip in her mouth. "–hungry. Where do you think we'll go? Barcelona, maybe? Ooh, you still haven' taken me there, always went on about it 'fore. Do the dogs really have no–"

"Rose." He was concerned now, that was evident in his voice.

Rose looked up at him, chip stuck in mid-taste. "Wha?"

She wasn't like this, no, not with something like this. After she'd seen her father die, she moved on, but took her time grieving. She now had lost her mum, never to see her again. The Doctor leant forward, reminding her that it's alright to be sad.

"I told ya that, 'm fine. Jus tired s'all."

The Doctor frowned, "Then it's time to get back to the TARDIS, isn't it?"

Rose looked as though she was about to argue, but then the brown-haired man in front of her took her hand in his, stroking it with his thumb softly. Giving in, she allowed him to pull her up, leaving the chips, and led her to the TARDIS. Her head buried in his shoulder as she wept, so much like a child in his sleep; they sat together in the Captain's chair, for hours it seemed–not that either of them were paying much attention.

It was only disrupted by a ginger bride and a sharp "Oi!", and the Doctor and Rose were off again.

* * *

_A/N: Yes, so this is series 3 (and beyond) with Rose added into the mix, but no, I'm (probably) not doing every episode. I know for a certain that the next chapter will not be _"The Runaway Bride"_, because I'm starting off with _"Smith and Jones" _(which should be posted soon, I just need to finish writing the ending and revise)_._ Just as a heads up, each episode will be a chapter, so prepare for them to be long. Will Rose always be there? Well, we'll see._

_Review if you like, and_ "Smith and Jones"_ should be up soon._


	2. Royal Hope

Listening to the bickering over her mobile, Martha sighed, then finally hung up, making excuses as she shut it and stuck the device into her jacket pocket. She navigated the busy London streets, and pushed her sleeve back to look at her watch. As her attention was directed to it, she wasn't aware of where she was walking until she bumped into a tall body.

She apologized to the brown haired man who had rammed into her, and was about to keep walking when he took off his tie, "Like so," before dashing away in the opposite direction.

Warily, she shrugged it off, realizing that London was full of oddities, never mind the simple ones as that. While walking, the dark skinned woman was enveloped of the thoughts of her brother's party that night, and collided with another dark figure–who unfortunately reminded her of a creepy biker. Not stopping to say another quick apology, she entered Royal Hope, forgetting to check in due to her haste.

Martha was nearly down the hall to the lockers when the receptionist called out, "Oi, Ms. Jones, I need ya to sign the registah."

The peroxide-blonde woman smiled, and then gestured to the clipboard at her left. "Rose" as her name-tag depicted, was rather pretty, though in a conventionally-unconventional way. With dark red lipstick, eyes rimmed with eyeliner and mascara, as well as a tight bun, most wouldn't have been able to pull it off without looking a bit like a clown, or a raccoon. But Rose's wide smile brought it all in, white contrasting against crimson.

Martha had become acquainted with her about a week ago, when the secretary had started work at the hospital, welcoming many of the new visitors and patients.

"See ya latah." The dark skinned woman muttered a goodbye as well, rushing to the lockers to pull on her coat, getting shocked, quite literally, in the process of opening the metal door.

* * *

Her group was led by Mr. Stoker, a slightly crotchety old man, to one of the patients' wards that specialized in short term ailments. He directed them to a room where an elderly woman laid on the bed, hands resting on her stomach as she talked to the present doctor.

"How are you feeling, Miss Finnegan?" The voice of the doctor was familiar, though Martha couldn't put a finger on where she'd heard it before. But, in the highest probability, she'd most likely just noticed the man's voice before, as he wouldn't have stayed confined to this one room.

The patient answered the question vaguely; the doctor chuckled, turning to the cluster of medical students behind him. His face was recognizable, as it was the man who'd first ran into her on Chancery Street. The brown suit and tie was gone, replaced by a white lab coat and sensible clothing underneath.

But if he recalled Martha, then he displayed no emotions to support it. Her reverie was interrupted by Mr. Stoker clearing his throat.

"And Dr. Smith, how are you?" He paused. "And the patient, Florence Finnegan."

Dr. Smith laughed. "Oh, I'm quite all right. And Miss Finnegan had told me before you came in that the dizziness had returned, though stronger than before."

Mr. Stoker checked the woman's pulse, reporting the slight thread-like qualities it had, before turning to Oliver Morgenstern, a fellow intern, whose answer was of "early onset diabetes," to which the instructor chuckled, and then asked Swales and Martha alike. He dismissed their input, looking to Dr. Smith.

"Ah, we could simply ask the patient." His question was directed to Florence. "What did you have for dinner last night?"

She replied with salad, and salad the night before. Dr. Smith's gaze at the old woman held a bit of an "aha!" quality, but also something else, slightly contradictory. He went on to explain the unbalanced salt levels the woman had made herself have.

"You know, Hippocrates himself, a fine chap, expounded on the virtues of salt. Recommended the inhalation of steam from sea water, though–" The man stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes shifted to the door. "Rose, what brings you here?"

The woman's black heels crisply clicked against the linoleum floor as she strode over to Mr. Stoker, holding out a white clipboard. "Just have vitals to deliver, Dr. Smith. And Mr. Stoker, patient Jenna Armstrong is in need of your assistance in room 303, East Wing."

Mr. Stoker's fingers reached for the metal object, but as he did, a visible electric shock broke between them. He pulled his hand back sharply, his students piping up, saying that it'd happened to them throughout the day. Martha noticed while Mr. Stoker was speaking that Dr. Smith had leant to whisper something in the receptionist's ear.

"Only to be expected; a thunderstorm is moving in, and lightning is a form of static electricity, as was first proven by–anyone?" Oliver Morgenstern answered correctly with Benjamin Franklin, to which Dr. Smith spun a wild tale of visits with the man himself and rope burns. Beside him, Rose was trying to keep a professional face, though failing, her face split with a wide grin.

Mr. Stoker muttered to a passing nurse of checking the doctor's mental health, then moved his class along to a room where the patient had a strong head cold. After he had gotten them settled with the nurse there, he excused himself to check on Ms. Armstrong, clipboard in hand.

The doctor and Rose had stayed behind in Florence's room, talking as though they were best mates–which they might have been, Martha had no clue.

A few hours later, she was talking to her sister about lunch plans (and, to be honest, the whole deal with Annalise and mum as well.) But when Swales interrupts her, fussing about the rain, then Tish as well, she looked outside to see what the conundrum was, she understood.

The rain was going up.

* * *

When she got over her initial shock, Martha ran downstairs to see if it wasn't just a false image, only to fall to the floor in the violent quake. It ended a few moments later as she held onto a table leg, and soon two arms were helping her up.

"You alright?" Rose asked, dusting herself off as well, and Martha was shocked by her disheveled appearance. She noted that her blond bun was in a disarray of wisps flying about, skirt bunched up, and rubicund blouse wrinkled. Her light skin was flushed with random splotches of pink, but the woman didn't seem to mind, as she rushed on.

"'Have you seen the Doctor?" The dark skinned woman furrowed her eyebrows, and the receptionist noticed her cryptic question. "Dr. Smith. You seen 'im?"

Martha shook her head no, and the blonde groaned, pushing back an escaped strand from her face.

"Well, if you don't need anythin', I'll be goin'. Need ta see if anyone's hurt or needs ta be helped."

Rose took off, disappearing down a corridor. Martha went back upstairs, where she saw Swales sitting against the wall, sobbing. As the woman cried, the student quickly made to push the window open, but was stopped by Swales, screaming about how the air would be lost.

Martha countered it, and opened the window anyway. She peered outside, and was shocked by what she saw: white rock where there should have been the bright streets, and dark sky where the blue should have shone through.

"We're on the moon, huh." Dr. Smith's voice startled Martha, and she turned around to see him emerging from behind a few curtains, wearing a pin-striped suit, the same one as the morning.

She frowned. "Why'd you take off your tie this morning?" At his blank look, she continued, pointing an accusatory finger. "On Chancery Street, just walked up and took it off, then waltzed away."

His hands wound to behind his back as he walked musingly towards her. "Ah, interesting. This morning, though, I was having breakfast in the cafeteria. I was called to do emergency MRI scans on a bloke at five, never woulda had the time. Ask the receptionist if you don't believe me." Dr. Smith winked at her, then directed his gaze to the window. "And very good point, brilliant in fact. What was your name?"

She answered with her first, to which he grinned, repeating it along with her surname. "Well, the question is, how are we still breathing?"

"We can't be!" Swales cried out.

Dr. Smith replied dryly, "Obviously we are, so don't waste my time. Martha, what have we got? A balcony on this floor, or a veranda, or…?" He snapped his fingers, as if he'd just remembered something. "Have you seen Rose, the receptionist?"

"Just saw her, looking for you. And there's a veranda by the patients' lounge."

Dr. Smith smiled. "Good, she'll find us quick enough. In any case, fancy going out?"

She nodded enthusiastically, and together they made their way there, passing confused and panicked people. They talked amiably for a while, marveling at the Earth, so far away. Then the topic turned to Canary Wharf, and Dr. Smith gulped, with a sort of sadness Martha could somewhat relate to.

"I had a cousin, Adeola. She worked at Canary Wharf, never came home." Martha was starting to break, as she and Adeola were practically sisters.

"I'm sorry, 's tough, losin' loved ones," came a voice from behind them. Rose stood in the doorway, smiling empathetically. She moved to put a hand on Martha's shoulder. "We were there, in battle."

After a moment of memory, Martha turned to the both of them, promising that they'd all return home safe. Rose chuckled, muttering something incoherent.

"What?" Martha asked.

Rose grinned. "'S not his name."

"It's just the Doctor," Dr. Smith clarified.

Martha scoffed. "So what are you? Just 'The Rose?'"

"Call me Rose. Just Rose. 'S all." She seemed so somber about it, so Martha didn't press. But she had noticed that two hands were now intertwined with the other, with such ease that it must have been a frequent act. They were much closer than she'd originally thought.

With that in mind, she couldn't help but ask, "So, are you two…?" She let the sentence hang, as neither seemed as though they were going to answer. Then, Martha noticed shapes in the sky–or space, as it was. She pointed it out to the pair, and the Doctor took on a dark look. Rose stood closer to him, asking what it was, even though it appeared like she had an idea herself.

"Well," The Doctor picked a pebble up from the ground, and threw it out further. But instead of reaching into the plains of the moon, it simply bounced back.

Needless to say, Martha was shocked. "So it's like, like…" Oh, what was the word?

"An air bubble." Rose supplied, sober. She peered up at the Doctor, brown eyes wide and laced with concern. "And when the air runs out…."

She didn't dare finish her sentence, so the man next to her did. "Everyone will die."

Rose blanched. "Nearly one thousand people, suffocating." She turned to the Doctor. "We're gonna fix that, right?"

He confirmed it, then said that the only way to find out what was happening was to go inside, to which Rose muttered something about running in heels while kicking off her pumps.

"Come along, Martha!" The blonde cried out as the Doctor dragged her into the hospital, disappearing down a corridor before the woman in question had much of a chance to act. Martha followed the direction they had been sprinting in, and soon found them, hiding behind a pair of potted plants.

But their attention was not focused on the doors of medical plaza, nor were they on Martha, as Rose had leaned her head into the crook of the Doctor's neck, pointing out something in the distance. She was giggling over the small gift shop, that she'd apparently hadn't noticed before, and the Doctor smiled in both amusement and agreement.

"I love a little shop." He grinned, and soon noticed Martha crouching down beside them. "We were just talking about how wonderful it was that New Hope had a gift shop. The last hospital we went too-"

Rose interrupted. "It wasn't-" Out of the corner of her eye she saw something, and abruptly stopped talking, eyes wide. Her arm shot out, whacking the Doctor in the stomach urgently.

He noticed whatever it was, and turned to Martha, who now *saw* the dark, hulking figures marching through Royal Hope's entrance.

"Judoon," Rose breathed as the front soldier (a leader of sorts) took off his helmet, revealing a rhino-head. Oliver Morgenstern tried to converse with it, saying that he would represent Earth, only for the chief Judoon to push him against the wall. It scanned him with a blue light, before declaring him "human" and marking his hand, and then the entire fleet began taking stock of the crowd.

Martha was so engrossed in the confrontation that she jumped as she felt a hand on her arm.

Rose gulped. "We've gotta go."

She pulled her up, er, dragged her, and led the black woman down a labyrinth of corridors, no Doctor in sight. Martha voiced her curiosity, to which Rose vaguely mentioned consequences of him being caught.

"What?" Martha asked, wishing for clarification.

Rose looked left and right, searching for something. "They're lookin' fa non-humans."

The look the medical student gave her made her giggle as she nodded.

"You alien, too, then?" Rose shook her head no, and then the conversation was over. It seemed like hours later when she stopped at a small office. A brown head was hunched over a keyboard, tapping furiously away.

The Doctor leant back forcefully, gripping his hair in frustration as he complained, chuffed. "Oh, they're thick! Wiped the files!"

"Why'd they do that?" Martha asked, perplexed. The Doctor groaned, saying that he didn't know. Meanwhile, Rose had taken the Doctor's spot in the chair when he stood up, typing something.

In an effort to help, Martha offered to ask Mr. Stoker if any of his patients were acting suspicious. The Doctor agreed, and she went down the corridor to the professor's office.

From what she could tell, he was still pacing and running his fingers through his brown hair when she turned the corner.

Her actions–the clicking–was putting the Doctor on edge; he couldn't concentrate on the task on hand, and he told her so.

"You think he'd appreciate the fact that I got the backup." Rose muttered, irritated.

The Doctor looked at her, stunned. "What?" His eyes darted between her and the computer. The blonde was now standing upright, glaring.

The Doctor checked the screen, and saw it was indeed true: she'd picked out the backup, something he hadn't even thought of.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

Rose scoffed. "A while back, Mickey showed me."

The Doctor pulled her into an embrace, muttering about how brilliant she was. She wrapped her arms around him instinctively, only to pull back from a sudden thought.

"You said that they were looking for something not-human." He nodded. "Is there anythin' that could read as human, or looked like it...?"

The Doctor's eyes went wide, and his smile grew.

"Yes, that's it! Oh, my clever Rose, how brilliant you are!" He said all this while kissing her forehead in excitement, then leant over to the computer, murmuring something about blood samples.

Martha's rushed entrance kept him from getting too far in his searches, and with her exclamation of a man chasing her, they were all off again.

* * *

After pressing the big yellow button, Martha was stunned as Rose ran to the Doctor, who was strangely alive. Whilst smiling broadly, he began to hop after being questioned about his actions and the dark shape on the floor ("increased the radiation by five thousand percent, killed him dead).

Martha gasped, "Isn't that going to kill you?"

The Doctor grinned, making his jumps more violent as he explained.

"Nah, it's only roentgen radiation. We used to play with roentgen bricks in the nursery. It's safe for you to come out. I've absorbed it all. All I need to do is expel it. If I concentrate I can shake the radiation out of my body and into one spot. It's in my left shoe. Here we go, here we go. Easy does it. Out, out, out, out, out. Out, out. Ah, ah, ah, ah! It is, it is, it is, it is, it is hot. Hold on." After a flurry of jogs, he kicked his left Converse into the bin a few feet away.

Rose laughed incredulously. "Doctor, only one shoe?"

"Doesn't it look daft?" He twittered, eyes shining.

And in reply, her wide smile grew even further. "Migh' as well get rid of the otha one, huh? Then we can match!" She gestured to her own bare feet.

Turning to look at Martha, the Doctor flung his other sneaker into the bin, and wiggled his toes.

"You're completely mad, you are!" The medical student said, exasperated. Whilst elucidating what happened, he noticed something - the sonic screwdriver was completely fried. Rose shook her head sadly while the Doctor moaned about the loss of his favorite tool, though Martha was unknown to it, and went on about the woman who was drinking Mr. Stoker's blood.

"Doctor!" Rose elbowed his ribs, and he stopped, rubbing the back of his head, asking if he was being rude again (yes, he was).

Martha continued. "Miss Finnegan was drinking his blood, Doctor."

The Doctor turned to look at Rose, beaming. "Rose was right then, about the shape-changer. If she's assimilating the blood, then that leads to-"

"Doctor!" Came Rose's repeated cry, and she dragged them behind a water dispenser. The trio had been walking down a hall, and Rose explained that the other Slab was coming their way.

The Doctor cursed. "I knew he'd have a backup. They travel in pairs, Slabs."

"You two a pair, then, too?" Martha whispered to him, gesturing to the blonde woman and the brown-haired man (alien, was that what they settled on?). The man next to her glanced at his friend, smiling.

He breathed something that sounded like a confirment. The three got up quickly at Rose's command, and began walking down the hall after the Slab had passed the other way. Martha was curious, though.

"Rose said you were an alien." She paused. "Are you?" But before she can get an answer, they walk into a Judoon who scans them and confirms the non-humanness, though the plural was lost by them as they ran.

The chase was on.

They got to the upper floor, and passed Swales giving patients, who were slumped to the floor, oxygen while she was struggling with breathing. Noticing this, Martha turned to Rose as they slowed.

"How much air is there?"

The woman's hazel eyes drifted to the surrounding people in distress, and her face looked as though it was shattering. "Not enough for all of these people."

Martha blinked, her face downcast. The Doctor took this opportunity to ask his companions how they were doing.

"'M running on adrenaline." Martha said in reply, and Rose 'dittoed' quietly. "What about the Judoon?"

"Ah, great big lung reserves, it won't slow them down." The Doctor then asked where Mr. Stoker's office was, and she led them there, only to shout in surprise. "She's not here!"

Rose saw the body on the floor, and knelt next to him, her heart breaking just a bit more. Mr. Stoker was a nice man, a bit like the Doctor in some aspects, and now his skin was cold, devoid of any color. Tracing the man's neck was the Doctor beside her, examining the now corpse.

He placed a hand on her forearm. "Rose, he's dead. Ms. Finnegan drained him dry, there's nothing we can do for him."

She gulped. "I k-know. 'S just, seein' death isn't right, specially when it ain't needed."

Instead of responding, the Doctor pulled her up and for them to face Martha. "Rose was on the right track, she's a plasmavore."

"Why was she on Earth?" Martha asked.

Rose spoke up. "She was probably hiding, like Ronald Biggs in Brasil, from what I can tell."

The Doctor nodded, then shook his head in frustration, pulling at his hair. "The thing is, though, that she's still not safe, and we need to know where she is now. The Judoon will execute us all." He turned abruptly on his heel and walked briskly, looking over his shoulder as the women stayed still. "Come on, then."

Following him reluctantly, Rose glanced at Martha, who told her that she'd be there in a tic. The blonde smiled sadly as her new friend closed Mr. Stoker's eyes, then fell in step behind them as they quickened their pace.

As they were shuffling, the Doctor began to ramble. "Think, think, think. If I was a plasmavore surrounded by police, what would I do?" He suddenly stopped, staring at a sign for MRI. "Oh, she's clever. Almost as clever as me."

But just as they were formulating a plan, a gruffly voiced shouts of "Find the non-humans! Execute!" rang down the hall, in their direction. Rose and the Doctor shared a look, as if this happened oh so often for them. Maybe it did.

Rose pecked him on the cheek, "I rather like that suit, I'd rather it comes back intact." Then she zipped off, saying a fleeting "see you soon" to Martha as she disappeared from her sight.

"Where'd she go?" Martha asked the Doctor, who had a forced-grin on, eyes following the last trace of Rose.

He cleared his throat, glancing down at her. "Oh, off to find more of the oxygen tanks. She knows something's odd about the scanners, and it might read her as non-human." He winked, "Trying to stay out of the Judoon's way before it gets too complicated."

"But she said she was human," Martha reasoned, and at his icy glare, resolved with asking for what she could do.

An awkward tinge nearly streamed from his face as he grabbed her shoulders. "You're going to stay here, giving me time. Hold them up."

"How am I going to–"

"Martha, forgive me for this. It's to save a thousand lives, it means nothing. Honestly, nothing." The Doctor kissed her, and then just as abruptly jetted off into the MRI room.

Martha breathed, "That was nothing?"

* * *

The Doctor stood at the door, taking a deep breath as he stepped through the door, slipping into "ignorant-ape" mode, as Rose had dubbed it. It'd be much easier if Florence hadn't been one of his patients, but he'd have to make do.

"Have you seen, there are these things, those great big space rhino things, I mean rhinos from space. And we're on the moon. Great big space rhinos with guns on the moon." The plasmavore looked at him with false-pity. "I'm just a doctor of medicine, started here a few days ago you know. Lovely place, but I think if we ever get back then I'll promptly resign. Can't have this again. Did I mention the rhinos?"

With a swift "Hold him!" Florence had the Slab move quickly to restrain him.

After half-draining the odd man of his blood, Florence wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she heard rushed footsteps coming towards the room. A blonde woman–oh, the secretary, she remembered–popped her head in, mouth hung open in horror.

"What the hell are you doing?" She shouted, dashing over to the unconscious Doctor, only to have the Slab grab her as well.

"Oh, just assimilating. Got to keep hidden until this thing finishes," Florence said, gesturing to a hulking machine, which Rose suspected was an MRI scanner. "But if it takes longer than needed, I can use you, you pretty little thing."

"What will that machine do?" Florence explained, oh so sweetly, that it would wipe out half of the earth. Rose was outraged, but laughed triumphantly as she heard Martha's erratic screams nearing, as many deep, militaristic voices.

Martha forced them to scan the confident Florence, to find that she was in fact non-human, and execute her on the grounds of assassination, to which she proudly accepted. After the Judoon vaporized, Rose began to feel lightheaded as the oxygen levels depleted. Drifting into unconsciousness, she called out to Martha to restart the Doctor's hearts as he was dying.

* * *

She didn't know what happened after that, but Rose woke up in her bedroom in the TARDIS with a throbbing headache. Knowing that she was probably needed for something, she pulled on a comfortable jumper and jeans, her blouse/skirt combo torn and dirty. Her hair in a ponytail, she made her way to the console room, where the Doctor was "tinkering" with the TARDIS.

He sat up when she came in, smiling. "Where we ought to go next? Maybe to that chippy in–"

Rose interrupted him.

"Why don't we go see Martha, huh? She helped us out, maybe she could go for a ride in the TARDIS?"

* * *

Martha is so _done _with her family, she can't help but go to Rose and the Doctor, who had "come hither" looks on their faces. Following them into an alley, the first thing she notices is the big blue box she had seen earlier, but she dismisses it; too many strange things had happened already.

"I went to the moon today." She said, slightly airy.

Rose smiled, a charismatic little tongue-in-teeth smile she hadn't seen before. "Bit more peaceful down here, don't you think?"

Martha commented on how little she knew of them, and the Doctor replied happily.

"You know, you saved our lives today, and my new sonic screwdriver needs roadtesting..." He trailed off, and Rose finished for him.

"You might fancy a trip." She was going to expand on that, but Martha stopped her, making excuses for why she couldn't go.

The Doctor, who was leaning against the alley wall, spoke up. "It travels in time, if that helps."

"Get out." Martha wouldn't believe it, couldn't believe it. The Doctor seemed to have an idea, and promptly jetted off to the box, which disappeared with a harsh, swishing sound. "What's he–"

Rose shushed her. "Just wait."

Martha waved her hand where the blue box had been, and in a split second pulled back when it materialized back in its place. Out popped the Doctor, blue-rosed tie in hand and a smirk on his face. She was astonished, and after a few questions–_Why didn't you tell me not to go to work today? Is that your spaceship?–_Rose invited her into it.

_Bigger on the inside? _

* * *

**A/N: **So that is the episode of "Smith and Jones" for ya. Sorry it took so long_–_my chapter on Google Docs got lost. So, review if you like, and Shakespearean Code should be up within a week or so (and hopefully an in between bit set off as a oneshot that is set between this chapter and the prologue.)

Rose's (and soon to be Martha's) outfits are on my page, but it's not necessary to the story.


End file.
